Closing the door with his butt, he flicked on his light and then fell to his knees beside the bed. Treating the envelope with a mixture of reverence and fear, he gently propped it against his pillow, saving it for last. First, he opened the box and gazed inside, a shaky smile forming on his lips.

It was filled with paper cranes, and resting on the top was a leather necklace. He pulled it out, running his thumb over the oval disk with the flying bird painted on it. His hand shook as he gently laid it on his rumpled covers and sniffed. He turned back to the box and gazed down at the mountain of cranes.

Reaching inside he pulled out one from the top, reading the script on the wings.

Tristan played my prince today. He was magical.

He grinned, reaching in for another.

We started writing a play—“Rapunzel’s Rescue.” Tristan has a bigger imagination than he thinks. I hope I can make him see it.

Tristan’s eyes were a brilliant blue today. His uninhibited laughter is the sweetest music I’ve ever heard.

I had my first real kiss. Tristan’s tongue is bewitching. He tastes like peppermint and I shall dream sweet tonight.

Tristan’s arms around me make me feel like I can do anything. I’m not afraid when he is near.

Each crane made his heart swell a little bigger. It felt tight in his chest, like there wasn’t enough room to take it all in. Crane after crane written for him. He’d filled her life with them, given her so much in such a short space of time, yet…

Yet she’d given it all back tenfold. She’d redefined him, and the second she was gone he’d retreated back into the shell he was in before he met her.

Guilt and despair wrestled for first place. Blinking hard, he wondered if he could cope with any more. But he gritted his teeth and snatched out his last crane before slamming the lid shut.

His breath iced over, a cold puff easing out between his lips as he read the words.

So this is what love feels like.

Tristan and Helena forever.

She’d sandwiched her words within a love heart and Tristan couldn’t help a bittersweet grin. Tears stung as he brushed his thumb over the word forever.

“If only,” he whispered.

Dropping the bird on his “read” pile, he glanced at the letter perched against his pillow. He had no idea what she wanted to tell him and he wasn’t sure if he had the courage to read it, but his hand worked with a mind of its own, reaching for the envelope and tearing it open.

He pulled in a nervous breath as he unfolded the white sheet of paper. The writing was neat and flawless, and Tristan wondered how many times she’d composed the letter to get this final version.

He could picture her scribbling her thoughts, her long hair draped over her shoulder as she wrote to him.

Letting out a breath, Tristan held the paper lightly in his hands and began to read.

My dearest Tristan,

It is with deep sadness that I write, knowing we’ll never see each other again. My heart is broken, yet in spite of this pain, I feel a sense of peace. It’s a soft glowing light in the fog…and gives me the courage to tell you this…

No matter how much I may miss you, or how many nights I’ll dream about our time together, and how many days I’ll yearn to see you again…I now have the security of knowing that no matter what happens to my broken body, my heart will live on in you. I’ll experience the world through your eyes, and that is what gives me hope.

I always thought the greatest love stories were fraught with tragedy, and maybe I’m right, but you’ve made me believe in fairytales too. You, the guardian of my heart, have been my dream come true.

I never saw you coming, and not once will I regret knowing you.

Now…as sole guardian, there are a few things I require of you. Things I shall never be able to do on my own.

This is an odd one to start with, but something I have always wished for. Get a tattoo. My mother will never allow it, and I can’t see my grandparents capitulating either. I’m locked in a body that won’t do as it’s told, and if I’m honest, I don’t know if I have the strength or will to learn to live with that. So, you must do this for me. Make sure it’s not a silly one you’ll regret after a year, but an epic one that’s meaningful…something that represents us.

I also want you to start a bucket list. Things you must do before the end. I would like it to include:

~ Visiting castles that fairytales were born in. I want you to stand on the turrets and imagine yourself as king. Picture me by your side, your ever-loving queen. Lavenders blue, lavenders green, remember?

~ Take me to Rome and Paris. Walk me through Sherwood Forest. Sail me down the Nile and then marvel at the pyramids. I want to see Petra, Victoria Falls, the Great Wall of China…the Taj Mahal.

~ Write me stories as you go. They can be real or pretend, I don’t mind either, but I want to experience these places as if I were by your side. Make them good, so one day I might find them in a library or bookstore. I know you have it in you, Tristan. You could be a master storyteller. Don’t hide yourself away. That would be a travesty.

You need to find the braveness inside you and cling to it. You are no longer the faint-hearted boy I met in the attic, but a knight—a defender of the weak. Men like that fight for justice and they protect those around them. Live up to your name and become the man you were destined to be.

Look for all the beauty and magic this world has to offer. Walk with your eyes and soul wide open and make every heartbeat count, so that you can give back and leave the biggest, brightest footprint this world has ever seen.

And lastly, this is something I really must insist upon…don’t miss me. Instead, make me paper cranes and fly them into the sky. No matter where I am, my spirit will catch them, because wherever you go or whatever you’re doing, I’ll always be with you, oh keeper of my heart.

With all my love,

Helena

Tears scorched his eyes, winning the battle and trickling down his face as he folded the letter closed with trembling fingers. Gripping his mouth, Tristan swallowed, his jaw quivering. He couldn’t believe she’d tried to throw it away; it would have been a tragic loss. He was grateful for Aunt Sylvie’s intervention.

Holding his head in his hand, he covered his eyes and let out a disjointed whimper. He wasn’t sure how to think or feel. Hope still battled with the shallow pain of knowing he’d never physically carry her again, never hold her or rewrite plays with her. Never sit beside her to read a book or smell her jasmine hair.

Opening the letter, he read the last few lines again. He didn’t want to not miss her…but as he soaked in her words, he slowly came to the resolution that he didn’t have to miss her, because she was there. She’d always be there.

Rubbing his chest, he willed his heart to beat with her song as he reread the letter twice more.

“I’ll keep you with me,” he whispered. “I’ll never let you go.”

Sucking in a breath, he sat back, sniffing loudly and swiping a finger beneath his nose.

“I won’t let you down, Helena.” He nodded, gripping the cover of his bed as determination fired through him. “You’re going to live this life with me. I promise.”

His heart swelled inside his chest as tendrils of hope weaved through his system, igniting, lighting, freeing him of the darkness.

Pushing himself up, he moved to the window and flung his curtains open, drinking in the summer sunlight.

He pictured her bright smile as she tipped her head to the sky and closed her eyes, flinging her arms wide and basking in the warmth of the sun. There she was. He grinned, and she smiled within him. He could feel it.

“You’re here,” he whispered. “You’re here.”